


You Are My Sunshine

by Strump



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Developing Relationship, Gay, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2020-12-24 00:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strump/pseuds/Strump
Summary: As if sensing eyes on him, the man turned, meeting Bucky’s eyes through the window. Bucky’s own eyes widened in recognition, lips parting in silent surprise. Captain America shrunk in on himself and started to move past the window.--The AU that nobody asked for.Bucky is retired military, owns a secondhand bookshop and has a service dog. Steve Rogers AKA Captain America wanders past his shop one night when Steve is going through a hard time. The two share a connection stronger than any Steve has felt before. Watch as Steve and Bucky try to navigate the hardships of being in a relationship, from the mundane all the way to the superhero BS that Steve deals with.--GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF PTSD, ANXIETY, DEPRESSION, VIOLENCE, MATURE CONTENT





	1. Chapter 1

It was a stormy night, rain pounding relentlessly and dark clouds blocking out the night sky (though the stars were difficult to see in Brooklyn regardless of the weather) when Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. He stood in the front of his secondhand bookstore watching the storm rage outside with a warm mug of tea held in one hand, steam rising from the recently heated water. Bo sat behind him, alert and on edge because of the storm, as Bucky stared vacantly into the darkness outside. As he stared, a single figure wandered past the window. Even through the rain sheeting down and marring his vision, he could see the figure was hunched, shoulders pulled up to ears and hands tucked into pockets of loose khaki pants. The man seemed to be in no rush, despite the raging storm above him.

As if sensing eyes on him, the man turned, meeting Bucky’s eyes through the window. Bucky’s own eyes widened in recognition, lips parting in silent surprise. Captain America shrunk in on himself and started to move past the window.

In a moment of bravery (or stupidity, only time would tell), Bucky rushed towards the door. Bo followed as Bucky nearly dropped his tea trying to get the door unlocked, pushing it open and blocking his face against the howling wind.

“You’ll catch pneumonia walking in this, pal. Why don’t you come in?” He called over the wind and rain. The captain stopped and for a moment Bucky thought he might deny the offer, but he gave a barely perceptible nod and turned. Bucky stepped aside as the Captain timidly stepped past him, dripping water onto the hardwood floors of the shop. Bucky forcefully yanked the door shut against the wind and locked it once more. Turning, Bucky watched Bo nose the man’s outstretched hand, whining lowly. The service dog obviously sensed some sort of distress.

“I can’t catch pneumonia anymore.” His heart tugged at the words, spoken in a wistfully sad tone of voice. He frowned slightly.

“Still. It’s rainin’ somethin’ fierce out there. Come on, I’ve got towels upstairs.” He offered, taking a sip of his quickly cooling tea and leading the Captain towards a set of hidden stairs in the back room. “Name’s Bucky Barnes. This is Bo, my service dog.” He introduced, if only to fill the somber silence hovering over the Captain like his own raincloud.

“Steve Rogers.” The man replied in a low voice. Bucky frowned once more but said nothing as they entered the quaint apartment above the shop. Bucky watched as Steve leaned over to unlace his shoes, kicking them off near the door, before the dark-haired man disappeared into his bedroom. Collecting towels and some loose clothes for Steve to wear, he reappeared.

“The bathroom’s in there. Take as long as you need. Tea?” Bucky asked, pointing towards the only other door in the small space. Steve took the bundle of towels and clothes from his arms and nodded, letting out a small “thanks” before disappearing into the bathroom.

Bucky hurriedly cleared off his small kitchen table and pulled a clean mug (his last one, he’d have to do dishes tonight) from the cupboard. Placing a tea bag in the red mug, he then poured the still-hot water from the kettle over it just as the bathroom door opened and Steve reappeared looking far more lost than anyone Bucky had ever seen before.

“You can just put those on the washer.” He directed, gesturing for the machine. Steve, looking somewhat grateful for the instruction, did as told before hesitantly taking a seat at the small table. Bucky placed the mug in front of his guest before sitting across from him. He’d wished he’d had some more time to clean up the apartment, but Steve didn’t seem to notice the piles of dirty dishes on the counters or the clothes haphazardly strewn about the room. The large man tried to sink in on himself, seemingly trying to make himself as small as he could, and stared into his tea, the mug cradled gently between two large hands.

“The neighborhood’s changed so much.” Steve spoke softly, taking a sip of the tea. “I don’t know what I was expecting.” He gave a brittle laugh and Bo whined once more, padding over from his bowl of food to rest his large head on Steve’s lap. The blond removed one hand from his mug, reaching down to scratch the German Shepherd behind the ear. “This is the first time I’ve been back since…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I knew nothing would be the same, but I thought at least something would be similar. Everyone else has moved on, why can’t I?” Bucky didn’t know why the man was telling a veritable stranger these things, but if Steve Rogers needed to talk, who was Bucky to deny him that?

“When I came home from my first deployment, I was pretty shell-shocked. I guess I forgot that the world kept spinning while I was gone.” Bucky stated, wincing as he realized he’d just compared one mere deployment to the horrible shit that Steve Rogers had been through.

“Really?” Steve asked in a small voice. Bucky sensed no anger at the comparison, rather overwhelming relief.

“Oh yeah.” Bucky nodded, taking a sip of his own tea. “I felt like a stranger in my own home. Everyone had moved on with their lives, my niece had grown so much. I didn’t know how I was going to fit back into society after nearly a year of being away from it.” Bucky continued. Steve let out a lofty sigh and looked up. It was the first time Bucky had really seen his face, and only now could he see the exhausted depression haunting the man’s sea blue eyes.

“Everyone expects me to be Captain America all the time. I never get to turn off. I don’t know who I am without the shield. I think Steve Rogers is gone for good.” He admitted, and Bucky was startled to see a solitary tear run down his cheek.

“I don’t think so.” Bucky shook his head, wondering to himself what right he had to say that to Steve at all. “I think he’s just buried. Underneath years of conditioning and being someone else.” He continued. Steve huffed out a humorless laugh, voice thick as he responded.

“I don’t know.” He murmured, looking down at the large dog staring up at him, alert eyes almost asking if he was okay. “I don’t know.” He whispered again. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so kind and invited me in, gave me dry clothes and tea, and here I am being a downer. You don’t even know me.” He apologized, reaching up with his free hand to wipe wet cheeks. Bucky leaned forward, expression serious.

“This is a safe place, Steve. You don’t have to be Captain America here.” Bucky assured. Steve’s shoulders tensed and Bucky wondered if he’d crossed a line for a split second, before all of the tension drained from his body and he slumped over, pressing both hands to his face, big shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Bo whined once more, inserting himself between the man’s large legs and nosed at his hands, licking them softly. Bucky stood and quietly made his way around the table, crouching next to Steve before hesitantly settling a hand (his human one) on the blond’s knee. When Steve didn’t shy away from the contact, Bucky shuffled into his space and squeezed his knee. “It’s hard to feel like you’ve lost yourself. Trust me, I understand what that’s like.” He whispered.

“How’d you get through it?” Steve asked, voice warbling and trembling. Bucky frowned.

“Lot’s of therapy. And medication.” He admitted in a rough voice. “Sometimes, we keep things with us that we don’t need to or shouldn’t.” Bucky stated, sounding like he was speaking from experience. “I had a good support network. My family and friends, the psychiatrists from the VA. They all helped me to get where I am now, but it took a while, and it was hard.” Bucky admitted.

“I don’t have family anymore.” Steve replied.

“Chosen family is still family, Steve.” Bucky answered easily. “The Avengers care about you, right? They’re your family?” He questioned. Steve gave a shaky nod in response. “Do they know about this?” Steve shook his head at that question and Bucky frowned. “Nothing is going to get better unless you get help. There are things that we just can’t do alone, no matter how much we want to.” He murmured. Steve laughed at this, a sharp, humorless laugh, and dragged his hands down his face, revealing tear streaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “You’re not alone, Steve.” Bucky assured softly.

“Sometimes, it sure feels like it.” Steve muttered, reaching down to place a hand on Bo’s head. The dog nuzzled into him, putting one paw up on the man’s knee.

“It does.” Bucky nodded in agreement. “And it will. It never goes away, we just find ways to cope with it. Healthy ways, that don’t include drinking.” He muttered sourly.

“I can’t get drunk.” Steve replied without thinking. Bucky let out a startled laugh, shaking his head, and Steve gave him a small, but genuine, smile. “Super serum and all.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“What do you say we watch a movie? Looks like the storm isn’t going to let up anytime soon and my ma would have my head if she knew I sent you out there in that.” Bucky suggested, giving Steve a smile. The blond glanced at the television hesitantly before he gave a small nod. “Great.” Bucky stood, stretching stiff arms over his head, and made his way into the living room. “What do you want to watch? I’ve got Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Hulu. Any movie your heart desires.” Bucky announced proudly as Steve curled into the corner of the couch with a frown.

“Uh, I’m not really sure. There’s so many options at your fingertips now, I get a little overwhelmed with it all.” Steve replied nervously, fiddling with his mug of tea and blushing slightly. Bucky nodded in agreement.

“Ain’t that the truth.” He sighed. “Have you seen Star Wars?” He asked, because Steve had gone into the ice in 1940 and had been fighting in wars ever since he’d woken up in 2012.

“Uh, no…” Steve replied, waiting for the inevitable aghast response that he usually got whenever he told someone he’d never seen the famous movies. It never came, much to his surprise. Bucky only nodded, giving him a comforting smile.

“Great, we’ll start with that. You have to watch them in the right order though. Never watch the first movie first.” Bucky informed, taking a seat on the couch and queuing up his Amazon Prime movie list, which was an extensive collection of sci-fi films old and new alike. Steve’s face slid into one of almost constipation, which he turned on Bucky.

“That makes no sense.” He announced in confusion. Bucky snorted out a laugh.

“The third movie came out first.” He shrugged. “Don’t ask me, pal.” As the storm raged outside, Bucky and Steve sat on his couch and started the first Star Wars movie. Bo padded over to his bed in the corner, turning in a few circles before flopping to the fluffy bed, head on his paws, watching his owner and Steve with bright eyes. Always watching, always ready to work. Steve had to admit, in this moment, he felt closer to Steve Rogers than he had since he’d come out of the ice.

It didn’t last long. Bucky and Bo noticed it immediately, a loud crack of thunder rattled the window, a flash of lightning, and Steve stiffened, hands coming to fists on his knees. Bo jumped to his feet, trotting over to the man and jumped on the couch, situating himself across Steve’s arms and lap. Bucky watched his eyes glaze over, his face morph into a battle-hardened mask that Bucky could see cracking. A PTSD episode. Bucky muted the television and turned.

“Hey pal. You’re okay. You’re in Brooklyn, it’s 2019. You’re in my apartment. Bo is here, I’m here. Nobody is going to hurt you.” Bucky assured softly, moving to give Steve some space in case he forgot where he was and tried to hurt anything.

Steve stayed impassive and immobile for a solid twenty minutes before the glazed look started to fade from his eyes. The immediate danger passed, Bucky scooted closer on the couch and tentatively reached out to place a hand on the man’s large shoulder. The touch seemed to pull Steve from the last of his cobwebbed mind, his face crumpled, and he bent over, shoving his face into Bo’s soft fur. Bucky leaned over, placing his arm over Steve’s shoulders, and squeezed his arm tightly.

“You’re okay, pal.” Bucky assured softly.

“Sorry.” Steve choked, muffled by Bo’s fur. Bucky shook his head.

“Don’t apologize, punk. You can’t control it. You’re in a pretty good place to be having an episode.” Bucky assured. His next words were interrupted, however, by a ringing from Steve’s pants. The man stiffened once more, digging a hand into the pocket and tossing a phone onto the coffee table. Bucky ignored it, rubbing a hand softly on Steve’s back, but when the third call had started to come through he huffed in annoyance and picked the phone up.

“Hello?” He answered gruffly.

“Who are you? Where’s the captain?” A cool, icy voice came through the phone. Bucky closed his eyes in frustration.

“Bucky Barnes. _Steve_,” He stressed the name, anger sour in his mouth at the use of his rank instead of his name, “is at my place. He’s fine.” Bucky snapped. The line was silent for a few seconds.

“All due respect, Sergeant Barnes,” the woman started, sharp voice relaying anything but respect, “I need to hear that from Steve himself. Otherwise, you will be on a very bad list of people for kidnapping a national hero, and I can tell you right now that SHIELD doesn’t do court.” She snapped, insinuating bodily harm were she not to hear Steve’s voice. Bucky’s mouth dropped open in surprise, a furious expression passing over his face for a moment before he molded it into one of cool indifference. Steve sighed and stretched a hand out to Bucky. The man passed the phone to him, lips turned into an angry scowl.

“I’m fine, Nat.” Steve sighed tiredly.

“Who’s Bucky Barnes?” Nat snapped. “Why are you with him? Why haven’t you answered any of the texts we’ve been sending you?”

“Would you relax?” Steve growled. “Believe it or not, I’m a fucking adult. I can make my own choices.” He snarled. Natasha sighed on the other side, voice softening.

“I know.” She replied. “I’m sorry. We’re worried about you. You’ve been…off ever since we came back from our last mission. Then you just disappeared tonight.” At her confession, Steve felt guilt come crashing down on him, bowing his shoulders forward to curve over Bo.

“I went for a walk to clear my head. Bucky’s letting me hang out while the storm passes over.” He informed. “Everything’s alright, Tasha.” He assured.

“I’m having Stark run a background check on this guy. Extensively. You need help, you just give me a call.” Natasha stated in a clipped, professional tone.

“Sure.” Steve replied softly as the line went dead. Sighing, he tossed the phone back onto the coffee table and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Bucky.” He apologized softly. The dark-haired man wanted to assure Steve that it was okay, but his own rage was taking a hold. He stood abruptly.

“I’m going to get some water.” He snapped gruffly, stalking into the kitchen and pretending that he didn’t hear the somber sigh that followed him. How dare anyone accuse him of something like kidnapping when he was only trying to help. How dare Natasha Romanov even _assume _that he would. Bucky leaned over the kitchen counter, clutching the rim and trying to drive the angry thoughts away. It was just a symptom of his PTSD acting up, and he knew that. He only needed a few minutes to work through it.

Ignoring the shuffling behind him, Bucky slowly counted his breaths, allowing his rage to dissipate just as his therapist had taught him to. After a few minutes, his iron grip on the counter released and his shoulders fell away from his ears. A few more deep breaths and he finally picked his head up, wiping sweaty hair off of his forehead. Turning around, he was startled to see Steve in his damp clothing, leaning over to lace up his shoes.

“Steve?” Bucky asked softly, voice cracking slightly from the hyperventilating he’d been doing only minutes before.

“M’ gonna head out.” Steve murmured, finishing lacing his shoes and standing up. “Thanks for helpin’ me out tonight. I’ll be sure to pay you back for it.” Steve didn’t look up from the floor as he spoke, hands once again jammed into the pockets of his khaki pants.

“Steve…” Bucky started, but the blond interrupted him.

“Really, thanks for everything. And I’m sorry.” With a small wave, Steve turned and exited the apartment, leaving Bucky standing in his kitchen with a startled, sad expression.

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes both went to bed with guilt weighing on their minds that night, and sad determination to make it better. No matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

“I already said I was sorry. I don’t know what more you want.” Natasha’s heels clicked a steady tempo down a hallway in the tower, a taunting reminder to Steve of what had happened the week before. He sighed but didn’t answer, making a beeline for the elevator. “I’m not letting you run away from me anymore Steve.” Natasha called after him, hurrying into the elevator after him. “Why are you so upset about this? You barely even knew the guy.” The red head continued, picking nonchalantly at her cuticles.

“We connected.” Steve muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as the elevator dipped. “He…called me Steve. Told me I didn’t have to be Captain America. He was…kind.” The blond continued. “And it totally fucked all of that up when you accused him of kidnapping me. I mean, what even was that, Nat?” Steve spun, baring the full force of his anger on her. She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin in defiance.

“I’m sorry for worrying about my friend, Rogers.” She snapped in response. “I don’t know who Bucky Barnes was. You disappeared without a trace, didn’t even read any message you got. What else was I supposed to think? If you needed to go for a walk, you should have told somebody.” She growled vehemently.

“I didn’t know that when I became Captain America I’d have to give up my free will.” Steve snarled, spinning as the doors opened and storming out. Natasha watched him go, a deep frown marring her features, and tried not to think too hard about his parting words.

Steve Rogers was on a war path and everybody knew it. Even in the lobby, where he frequently got stopped, the patrons kept clear of him. He yanked his baseball cap over his head, donned his aviators, and stormed onto the streets.

In truth, Steve didn’t know why he was so upset about what had happened. Natasha wasn’t wrong, he’d barely known Bucky, and in reality hadn’t lost anything over what happened. But Bucky had intrigued him. Bucky had treated him like a person, had held him when he was crying, had helped him through an episode. Plus, it didn’t hurt that the man was drop dead gorgeous and had a cute service dog to boot.

Steve hadn’t realized that his feet had carried him to the café a few blocks away. Looking up, he sighed and gave a shrug, making his way inside. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, he glared at the menu through his glasses. The barista working was one who knew him well, a short college student by the name of Liz. She always kept his identity quiet and put the name Grant on his cups. Steve liked her, she was one of the few who treated him like a normal person.

“The usual today?” She chirped as he got to the front of the line. He gave a small, affirmative grunt and nodded. Liz smiled gently and rang up his usual. As he went to pull his wallet out, Liz reached out and put her dainty hand atop his larger one. He was startled to see that his own hand was trembling. “Don’t worry about it today.” She smiled softly, shooing him away. He lowered his glasses to give her a grateful look which she returned with a grin and a wave. After his coffee had been made, he exited the shop. As he wandered down the street, a shout stopped him.

“Steve!” Bucky’s honey sweet voice called after him. The blond bowed his head, ignoring the way his heart fluttered when he felt Bucky’s soft touch at his elbow. “Hey.” The man was slightly out of breath, puffing out air and sucking in a deep breath. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” Steve mumbled. “Just…coffee.” He gestured to the cup in his hand.

“Right.” Bucky nodded, closing his eyes. _You literally followed him out of the coffee shop, dumbass. _“Hey, uh…what are you doing right now?” Bucky asked, a little nervously.

“Not much.” Steve shrugged ambiguously. Bucky frowned.

“Uh, do you wanna come back to the bookshop? I had a customer drop off some old Howling Commando books that you may be interested in.” Bucky offered, his lame excuse at an apology. Steve turned his head slowly, meeting the man’s eyes over the rim of his glasses, and his face blossomed into a mild smile, one of the biggest ones Bucky had seen from the man yet. He knew in that moment that Steve understood what he was trying to do.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, slightly more enthusiastic than he had been minutes ago. “That would be great.” Bucky beamed brightly, hooking Bo’s leash around his wrist and linking his own arm with Steve’s. “What are you doing all the way in the center of town?” Steve questioned as they made their way to the nearest subway station. _Hoping to see you. _Bucky thought.

“I had a few errands to run, so I took a long lunch and closed the bookshop for a few hours.” He said instead, shrugging. “It’s pretty dead on Mondays anyway, so I’m losing barely any business by taking another hour for lunch.” He rambled as they meandered down the subway steps, still arm in arm, with Bo by his owner’s side, faithfully watching every person that passed them.

“Ah.” Steve hummed, nodding in understanding as the two scanned their passes. “What kind of errands did you have to run?” He asked. Bucky couldn’t tell if he was asking just to be polite or if he was trying to lead the conversation somewhere.

“I usually check out some of the other secondhand bookstores around town. Like to see what kind of things they offer so that I can have different stuff.” Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, trying to ignore the fact that his heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest. Steve nodded as they stood on the platform, pretending he didn’t feel when Bucky leaned in closer, resting his face against Steve’s arm.

“Smart.” Steve smiled softly. “Listen…” He trailed off, fidgeting nervously. Bucky leaned closer, pressing his face into Steve’s bicep.

“Let’s talk about it when we get home.” He whispered. Steve nodded, relief melting some of the tension from his shoulders.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to Bucky’s stop that he realized he’d said ‘home’ and not ‘to my place’. Blushing, he only stepped a bit closer to Steve and pretended that he’d been jostled.


	3. Chapter 3

“I started seeing a therapist.” Steve announced as he thumbed through a first copy of Morita’s published journal. Bucky smiled softly from where he was re-shelving a few books that one of his earlier customers had asked about.

“That’s good, pal.” Bucky grinned softly. Steve traced a fuzzy black and white photo of he and the Howlies in the field, huddled together around a small campfire and laughing loudly. Even in this picture, in the battle-razed landscape, he looks happier than he has since he’d woken from the ice.

“Her name is Sarah. Like my ma.” Steve’s eyes crinkled as he shot Bucky a smile, and the dark-haired man had to take a second to catch his breath before he fell off of the ladder he was on. Even if it wasn’t the full force of Steve’s smile, which he’d had yet to unlock, the man was still gorgeous. And it made Bucky smile that Steve seemed to be doing better. “She…said there’s a lot that I have to work through. And we considered medication, but she doesn’t think there’s any strong enough to make a difference, with the super serum. My body burns through shit way too fast.” Bucky nodded, listening silently as he continued to shelve a few more well-loved books. “I mentioned Bo.” He murmured, something like embarrassment or shame hunching his shoulders down. “Sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?” Bucky asked, turning to observe the Captain from his ladder. Steve was fiddling with one of the many books on the table, eyes cast down. Bucky was starting to hate that expression.

“I know he’s your dog. I just…” Steve shook his head, letting out a little frustrated huff. “He helped so much that night.” The blond admitted in a low mumble.

“Have you considered your own service dog?” Bucky asked curiously, climbing down the ladder. Steve hummed slightly.

“It’s too impractical. With the missions.” His voice sounded tired, a bone deep exhaustion settling a haunted look in his bright blue eyes.

“Sure.” Bucky nodded in response as Bo settled at Steve’s feet. “Have you considered…maybe retiring?” Steve stiffened and Bucky winced. That was definitely crossing a line.

“I have.” Steve admitted lowly. “They won’t let me.”

“What?” Bucky snapped, rounding on the man. Steve shrunk at the magnitude of Bucky’s rage and the dark-haired man tried to calm himself. “They won’t _let you_? That’s…that’s fucking bullshit!” He exploded. Steve huffed a laugh through his nose.

“I suppose it’s not so much they won’t let me, more than…they’re strongly suggesting that I don’t? Plus, I have this…obligation, I guess, to fight.” Steve fiddled with his thumbs, large shoulders hunched. Bucky frowned deeply.

“Obligation to who, Steve?” Bucky asked gently. Steve let out a humorless laugh.

“Myself.” He shook his head. “I don’t…” he let out a frustrated huff and shook his head. “If something happened and I knew I could stop it but was choosing not to, I’d feel…useless. Inadequate. Like I’m not living up to what I should. It’s dumb, anyway.” He tried to shake it off.

“The world keeps spinning, pal.” Bucky reminded him.

“No, I know.” Steve nodded, glancing up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “It’s arrogant of me to think otherwise, and I know that.” He continued, and Bucky wanted to deny it. That’s not what he’d meant. “I’m…a subspecies. And basically, the only of my kind. Sure, Hydra’s tried to replicate the serum, but something always falls short.” This is the most Steve’s talked about his past, and oppositely his future. “I’m…unique. Different.” Steve sighed.

“Sure.” Bucky nodded. Steve looked up sharply. “That’s true. I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and say it isn’t.” The man shrugged, almost apologetically. “But, there’s a lot of reasons that you’re unique, and very low on the list is the super serum.” Bucky assured.

“Yeah, but none of those put me in a position to be in charge of lives. Lots of them.” Steve sighed, picking up a dusty photo of him standing next to Dum Dum in a professional portrait that he distinctly remembered taking much longer than it should have. Bucky didn’t know what to say to that, and Steve seemed to realize. “It’s okay. It’s not your problem, nor should I make it. It’s nice to have someone to talk to that isn’t my therapist or a coworker.” Steve looked up, sending the dark-haired man a genuine, if not tired, smile.

“Of course, Steve. You know I’ll always be here for you.” Maybe it was a poor assumption to make that Steve would want Bucky around for whatever ‘always’ meant. But the smile that the man gave Bucky opened the rainclouds forming over his head.

“Thank you, Bucky. That means more than you could know.” Steve thanked in a syrupy, genuine tone. “You know, this photo was taken immediately after a bird shit on my uniform.” Steve turned one of the photos towards Bucky with a small grin and the veteran couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. In the black and white photo, Steve’s face was startled, eyes wide and lips hinting into a smile. Morita stood behind him, head thrown back in loud laughter. Bucky felt a slight tinge of jealousy, hoping maybe someday he’d get to have candid moments like that with the Captain. But that was only if Steve wanted him around.


	4. Chapter 4

The op went horribly wrong. Bucky watched the national news, perched on the edge of his armchair with Bo sitting near his feet, big head resting on his legs. Bucky clutched the remote so tightly that his prosthetic nearly dented it, before remembering to let up his grip. On the screen, the newscaster droned.

“-casualty number is still unknown, and Captain Rogers hasn’t reappeared from the wreckage of the building.” A week ago, Steve had told him that they’d gotten a big lead on a planned HYDRA strike at a meeting of the leaders of the UN. They’d arrived, only to find that the whole thing had been a lie in order to stage an attack on the Avengers. The building had been decimated in mere moments, and Steve still hadn’t appeared from the crumble of bricks, plaster, and concrete on the ground. Bucky’s heart leapt in his throat and he quickly took the pill bottle that Bo had brought over, popping two small pills into his mouth and swallowing them dry to divert the incoming panic attack. The newscaster suddenly stiffened, finger going to her ear. Bucky stiffened with her, heart slamming painfully in his ribcage. “I’ve just received news that the Captain has been recovered. His condition is still unknown, but he is alive.” Bucky’s raging heart calmed little at that. Alive didn’t mean okay, and Bucky knew that better than most.

His phone vibrated loudly on the coffee table, snapping him from his panicked gaze, and he lunged for it. The word ‘unknown’ lit his screen up and he cautiously answered it.

“Hello?” He answered the phone lowly, hushing Bo as the dog let out a little growl, hearing the threat in his owner’s voice.

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice halted Bucky’s heart on its warpath and he visibly melted into the back of the couch.

“Hey.” The man breathed as Bo jumped up on the couch beside him and laid his fluffy head in Bucky’s lap.

“Hey.” Steve reciprocated. “I just wanted to…call and make sure you knew that I was okay.” He blurted.

“Oh…” was the only response Bucky could muster, touched and confused.

“Sorry. I, uh…pilfered your number from Nat’s background check. I hope you don’t mind.” Steve apologized.

“No, not at all.” Bucky replied, shaking his head stupidly. “How, uh…how do you feel?” He asked, resisting the urge to smack his hand against his forehead. Could he ask a more stupid question? The man had just been in a very intense fight, he must be feeling like shit. Much to his surprise, Steve let out a gentle laugh.

“Like a building got dropped on me.” He chuckled lightly. “But, not as bad as I could.” Steve’s words held something more, some sort of weight that Bucky couldn’t place.

“Well that’s…good.” Bucky stammered, rolling his eyes at his own awkwardness. 

“Yeah.” Steve replied gently, and Bucky could hear the soft smile on his face. “Sorry to uh…disturb you.” The blond apologized, back to fumbling giant. Bucky grinned.

“You didn’t. You actually pulled me over an incoming panic attack, so thanks.” Bucky assured.

“Oh, uh…are you okay?” Steve asked softly, the concern palpable even through the phone. Bucky’s heart sang.

“I’m okay, Steve.” He replied softly. “Thank you.”

“Sure, of course.” Steve stated, sounding somewhat relieved.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Bucky stated, a yawn capping the end of the sentence.

“Thanks, Buck. Get some sleep, you sound exhausted.” Steve replied, and there was no way Bucky could deny the adoration tinging his voice.

“Isn’t that my line?” Bucky joked. Steve huffed a laugh.

“We’ll both get some sleep, then.” The captain assured.

“Good, you need it too. Goodnight, Steve.” Bucky said softly.

“Goodnight, Bucky.”


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re fucking _smitten_! With a national icon!” Becca shrieked from his kitchen table. Bucky turned a sharp glare on her from the stove, waving a wooden spoon at her.

“I’m not smitten, Rebecca!” He denied, teeth grinding. “The guy needs a friend and I happened to be there.” He reasoned.

“And then you just _happened_ to catch feelings for him, too? And from the way it sounds, he’s catching them as well! What’s stopping you?” Becca questioned.

“Uh, maybe the fact that he’s, oh I dunno, _Captain fucking America_? Plus, I don’t even know if the guy is…not straight.” Bucky mumbled. “Plus, I don’t like him!” He shouted. Becca snorted. “And I don’t think he needs a relationship. I think he needs a friend.” Steve’s haunted eyes flashed in Bucky’s mind and he frowned.

“Bucky, I’m your little sister. I know everything about you.” She stated. Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. “And I know for a fact that the sentence you just uttered is false.” She finished.

“Shut up, or I’m not letting you have any of this.” At the threat of missing out on Bucky’s delectable cooking, Becca shut her mouth with a knowing smile.

If there way any part of Rebecca Barnes that believed that her big brother didn’t have a thing for Captain America, it had been smothered as soon as the man’s phone pinged with a notification. She watched him drop the spoon, not caring as drips of tomato sauce landed on his stove, and practically dove for the phone.

**Star-Spangled Man [6:19pm]**

_Is it illegal to murder your colleagues?_

Bucky snorted, shaking his head and tapping out a quick reply.

**Me [6:19pm]**

_I think murder’s illegal no matter what, pal. Rough day?_

**Star-Spangled Man [6:20pm]**

_Nat’s winning game night._

Attached was a selfie that stopped Bucky’s heart in his chest. Steve was holding the phone out, a frown stretched across his face, and the Black Widow was flipping him off over the monopoly board while Iron Man was grinning victoriously, and Hawkeye had a hot pocket shoved halfway into his mouth.

Steve looked…not quite happy, Bucky could still see the anguish haunting his eyes, but he looked better, and that was enough for Bucky.

“So…not smitten?” Becca smirked at the expression on Bucky’s face. Her brother turned, jabbing a finger at her and sneering.

“You shut your whore mouth, fiend.” Becca let out a howl of laughter, throwing her head back.

And if Bucky saved the selfie Steve had sent…well, Becca didn’t need to know that.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky was only slightly startled when his quaint shop was suddenly filled with the raucous conversation of four, unexpected, Avengers. Steve had warned him that they were a nosy bunch, especially Natasha and Tony.

“Hi guys, how can I help you?” Bucky’s face was a mask of polite customer service despite the thundering of his heart. _Holy shit. The Avengers were here._

“Just checking out the place Steve’s been hiding in recently.” Tony Stark peered around, a small approving smile on his lips that made Bucky stand just a little higher.

“So, James Buchanan Barnes. What is it exactly that you want from our Captain?” Natasha asked coolly. Bucky knew she was testing him.

“Nothing.” Bucky shook his head, watching as Bo placed himself between his owner and the red-head, ears back and giving her a low warning growl. Natasha pretended as if she didn’t even notice him.

“Nothing.” She repeated, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Absolutely nothing.” Bucky confirmed. Bo growled again. “Actually, I think a better question is ‘what do _you _want from him?” He countered. Tony fixed him with a look of surprise, a glint of respect gleaming in his eyes.

“We’re his friends. We don’t want anything from him.” Clint Barton spoke up, sounding slightly hurt.

“Sure.” Bucky nodded. “Except for a Captain. Someone for the responsibility to fall to. I mean, who took all of the blame for the UN bombing? I watched the press conference. Those reporters attacked him, and not once did I see any of you standing to defend him. Your supposed friend.” Bucky continued nonchalantly. _What are you doing?!_

The truth was, the press conference had sent Bucky into a rage so great he’d shattered three of his plates before Bo could calm him down. Steve had taken two hours’ worth of verbal abuse with a stoic face, feeding lines like ‘the Avengers regret the consequences of their actions’ and ‘we will pay for all of the damages’ to the media sharks. And the other avengers had merely stood behind him and allowed him to be the punching bag. It sat like a stone in Bucky’s stomach, and every time he thought about it, sent a jolt of nausea through him.

“The Captain can handle it. And it’s his job.” Natasha brushed his comments off smoothly. “He is our friend. He’s also our coworker and leader. There’s a line that we have to draw between our professional interactions and our personal interactions.” Bucky hated that sentence and the icy tone that Natasha said it in. It was exactly something that his officers in the Army fed to the boys who were still green.

“Steve’s been fighting for years. Don’t you think he deserves a break? Or at the very least, to know that his friends will back him up when he needs it? Not just on the battlefield?” With that final statement, Bucky spun and strode to the back room with Bo at his heels, slamming the door behind him.

Sitting near the window sketching at the tower, Steve’s phone buzzed with a message.

**Nat [2:10pm]**

_Barnes is an alright guy, Steve. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a canon divergence in this chapter about the Howlies, hope you guys don't mind!!!  
Also sorry for the long time between updates and then the chapter dump of really short filler chapters. I'm working through some writer's block hardcore!

Steve liked the mornings. He had a routine, even. Oppositely, he hated the night. It was too quiet, reminded him too much of the somber nights after a battle, when he and the Howlies would share a flask in silence and mourn their lost brothers. He rarely slept anymore, always joked that he’d slept for 70 years when someone brought it up. He didn’t sleep because when he laid down, it felt like there were bugs crawling under his skin and all he could think about was ‘what if someone needs me while I’m asleep?’. It had everything to do with the way he’d lost the Howlies. A night that Morita had been on watch and Steve had slept peacefully as Hydra silently slaughtered his men mere feet from where he lay.

It had been an accident. He’d been exhausted from the last mission and as soon as he’d received news that Clint would be okay, had passed out on his couch.

He awoke in dirt, with a chilly wind that brought the coppery smell of blood. His team, old and new alike, lay around him.

“Steve?” Nat’s choked voice came from his left. He turned, face dropping into one of horror. She was missing her legs, blood mixing into the dirt to form a grotesque kind of mud. “Where were you?” Her voice cracked as a tear rolled down Steve’s cheek.

“We needed you.” Falsworth coughed from behind him. “Why weren’t you here?”

“I…I…” Steve stammered inanely.

“Why’d you do this to us?” Sam demanded, missing an eye and cradling Clint’s lifeless body.

“Where were you?” Tony repeated Nat’s question, the iron man suit leaking blood.

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered, clutching his hands to his heart.

“Not good enough, pal.” That was Bucky, the only person still standing, but missing his entire left arm. “The world needs a leader, but I don’t think you’re it.” Bucky’s gentle smile seemed disconnected from the harsh words he was saying. “You’re pathetic.” And nobody made a sound as they died.

Steve woke with water rushing in his ears, maggots burrowing holes through his veins, and tried to choke a breath. Panic driven, the soldier jumped to his feet and raced into the elevator.

“Roof.” He choked. Friday was merciful enough to not speak as the elevator rose.

The August air was warm as Steve leaned against the railing, the night breeze feeling cool against the wetness of his cheeks. Steve watched the city move below him and had a fleeting thought of throwing himself off. Super serum or not, nobody could survive a fall like that. The man shuddered, clutching the railing, and leaned out further. Maybe the world would be better off without a broken icon like Steve Rogers. He could imagine the headlines now. _Captain America falls to death again. _The world would fall into chaos for a week and then, just as it had the last time Captain America fell, it would spin on. And Steve would be free of the monsters in his head.

Instead, he dug his phone from his pocket. It was only eight, Bucky would’ve just closed the shop. Steve hesitated before shaking his head and not dialing the number. Instead, he shot off a message.

**Me [8:04pm]**

_Hi_

Bucky responded quickly.

**Bucky B. [8:04pm]**

_Hey. You okay, pal?_

**Me [8:05pm]**

_Dunno. The city looks small from the roof._

Steve’s phone lit up almost immediately with a call. He sighed miserably and debated not answering but knew that Bucky would just keep calling. So, he did.

“Hey Buck.” He sighed.

“Hey pal. What’re you doing on the roof?” Bucky asked, voice carefully bright.

“Dunno. Needed some air. D’ya think a fall from the top of the tower would kill me?” Bucky’s inhale was sharp.

“I’m on my way.”

“What? Buck, no.” Steve denied, shaking his head.

“Shut up, Rogers. And DO NOT MOVE.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I kinda fell off the map there. Sorry!!!! <3

Bucky, in this moment, was happy to not have sold his car like he’d wanted to. He tore through the streets, Bo laying in the back seat, and probably broke every traffic law ever to get to the tower. He burst into the lobby with Bo’s leash on his arm, panic making his heart race.

“Tower’s closed.” The security guard glanced up lazily, shutting his magazine.

“I need to get to the roof right now.” Bucky panted, jaw clenched.

“That’s prohibited, I’m sorry.” The security guard shook his head.

“Look, you don’t understand! It’s…it’s an emergency!” Bucky shouted, hearing a noise outside and spinning around to make sure it wasn’t the body of a super soldier landing from a fall that he could never survive. It was just a dog barking at Bo.

“I’m sorry sir, I can’t just let anyone up to the roof.” The guard stated, standing up and narrowing his eyes.

“Call Tony.” Bucky snapped. “Right now. Fucking call him.” The security guard took a step back as Bucky stormed towards him, slamming his hands down on the counter. Bo whined and nosed at his pants, but Bucky shook him off.

The young security guard, somewhat scared for his life, did just that. The hulking man stood in front of him, chest heaving, with a glare that could melt stone set the young guard on edge. He had the AI alert the genius of the situation, and several seconds later, an elevator was opening in the lobby and Stark was striding out.

“Barnes! What a pleasant surprise!” Tony spread his hands with a tight smile. “Any reason you’re trying to get to the roof?”

“Yes. It’s an emergency, okay? I’m not at liberty to say but…” Bucky glanced at the guard and lowered his voice so that only Tony could hear him. “It has to do with Steve. I need to get up there.” Tony’s expression changed, sinking into something like fear, and he gestured for Bucky to follow him.

“This elevator will take you up. Friday, get Barnes to the roof expediently.” Tony spoke as the door opened.

“Of course, sir.” Bucky didn’t have time to dwell on the disembodied voice as the elevator shot up so fast that Bucky’s stomach lurched. Within minutes, the door was opening again.

Bucky didn’t know what to expect. Maybe Steve leaning over the edge of the railing, or maybe nothing at all, the man having already thrown himself off of the edge of the precipice, as Bucky had a panicked fear that he would. But Steve was sitting on the ground, leaning against the railing, the cigarette in his mouth lazily trailing smoke through the air. The dark-haired man felt his hackles lower, taking a deep breath, and tread cautiously towards Steve.

“Those things will kill you.” He stated as he approached. Steve snorted softly and produced a crushed carton of them, offering it to Bucky. The other man reached out, deftly sliding a cigarette from the pack. Steve flipped it shut and held a red lighter out, staring past Bucky with his jaw clenched around the cigarette. Bucky gingerly lowered himself beside Steve with a small grunt, Bo’s leash jangling as the service dog settled himself at the two men’s feet.

“When the Howlies died, I didn’t think I’d ever get over it.” Steve started, pursing his lips and taking a long drag of the cigarette. “When the Valkyrie went down, it was…I dunno, I was kind of happy in a way. It was an easy way out. An easy way to not deal with the grief.” Steve let out a humorless huff of laugh. Bucky frowned, holding his cigarette delicately between his pointer finger and middle finger and glanced up at the night sky, muddled with New York light pollution, before flicking the lighter a few times before it lit the cigarette. “And then I woke up in a different century and…” Steve shook his head with a sigh, snuffing out the butt of his cigarette on the concrete roof below them and clasping his hands over his stomach. “I’ve just been going and going. I haven’t had time to think about it.” He admitted softly. Bucky nodded, taking a long drag of his own cigarette as Steve produced another, the last one from the pack, and lit it. “I don’t want to die, Bucky.” Steve turned suddenly to look at him and Bucky was hit with the full force of the man’s hurricane of emotions. “But sometimes I wish I could not feel anymore.”

“Amen.” Bucky replied with a nod. “I understand what you’re going through.” He admitted lowly. Steve hummed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the railing and inhaling deeply. “Look. I can’t…I’m not a therapist or anything.” Bucky stated, turning to look at him. “And what helps me may not help you.”

“I know.” Steve replied softly. “I don’t need you to be a therapist. I just need you to be my friend.” Bucky inhaled sharply.

“Is that what we are? Friends?” He asked softly, taking a long drag of the cigarette as Bo settled his head on Bucky’s crossed ankles.

“Yeah. Aren’t we?” Steve replied, turning his head to look at Bucky. The other man huffed out a small laugh.

“What a pair we make. Two PTSD riddled war veterans with enough scars for the whole city.” Bucky tapped his metallic left arm deftly, a wry smile twisted on his face. Steve let out a sharp laugh at this.

“No kidding.” Steve rumbled. “Thanks. For coming all the way here. Means a lot.” He looked down, fiddling with his hands on his lap.

“Course, Steve. I’ll always come.” Bucky assured. Steve huffed out a sharp laugh through his nose. “I mean it.” Bucky turned to look at the blond. “Anytime you call, I’ll be there. You don’t have to go through these things alone. And I’m sure the rest of your team would want to help you too, if you told them what was going on.” He continued.

“I don’t need to burden them with this stuff. They’ve already got enough on their plates as it is.” Steve shook his head. “And I’m not sure any of them would really understand. They’re heroes, but they’ve never been soldiers.” He finished.

“It’s a different life.” Bucky agreed, snuffing out his cigarette. “What do you say to a movie? Since I’m here, I’d like to sniff around Stark’s tower a bit. Plus, it’s a bit chilly out tonight. I think it might rain.” He stretched his stiff shoulder.

“Sure, Buck. A movie sounds great.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Bucky lately. Anything you wanna tell us, Rogers?” Natasha leaned across the kitchen table, tapping Steve’s hand where he was holding his phone. Steve looked up, rolling his eyes.

“I know how to make friends, Nat.” He snapped.

“Touchy.” She grumbled, falling back into her seat. “What’s got you in such a mood today?” She asked, glancing up at Tony who was pouring coffee into a cracked pink mug.

“Nothing.” Steve growled, standing up and pushing away from the table. He dumped his empty plate and mug in the sink (he wasn’t a heathen) before striding from the common room.

The truth was Steve hadn’t slept in a week and a half. He was too scared. Which was one thing that Captain America was _not _supposed to be. Bucky had also been oddly absent, answering his texts hours later with one-word answers. Steve was worried that something had happened, or that he’d accidentally crossed a line he didn’t know about. Not to mention, Fury was sending them out on a mission later that day and Bucky still hadn’t responded to the message Steve had sent when he’d gotten the news.

Throwing himself onto his bed, he shoved his head into his pillow and groaned loudly. His phone buzzed beside him and he hurriedly unlocked it.

**Bucky B. [11:36am]**

_Ok_

Steve groaned once more and flung his phone across the room, watching it hit the wall and flop uselessly to the floor. Sighing regretfully, he stood and made his way over to it. The screen had shattered, and no amount of tapping or hitting the buttons on the side of the device would turn it back on. Steve let out another frustrated groan and dropped the phone into a drawer of his nightstand, reminding himself to ask Tony for a new one later.

He fidgeted in the center of his room before changing into his workout gear and making his way to the gym.

Four hours later saw him sitting on a quin jet, leaning against the wall as the team chatted.

“You feeling alright, Cap?” Tony flopped into a seat beside him. Steve only grunted, taking a deep breath.

“I’ll be fine when we land. Run me through the intel again.” He replied tiredly.

“Creepy Hydra/AIM doctor. Dr. Lincoln. He’s been found hiding in a Hydra safehouse near Saudi Arabia. High security, but they don’t know that we’re coming unless someone tipped them off.” Tony listed off. “Fury wants him alive.”

“Sure.” Steve nodded, sighing. “Sounds like an easy in and out.”

It turned out to not be an easy in and out. Someone had seen them coming, and their cover had been blown. Natasha had been nicked by a few shots, and Tony’s suit destroyed. The doctor was evacuated before they could get their hands on him, and the mission had been a complete failure. They arrived home 13 hours later with Steve on a stretcher and all doctors on duty.

“Someone needs to give Barnes a call.” Natasha spoke up four hours in Steve’s surgery. “He’ll want to know about this.” She explained.

“Sounds like you’re volunteering.” Tony replied, waving her away.

“The guy hates me.” Natasha replied, rolling her eyes. “You do it, Tony.” The genius groaned but pulled his phone out anyway.

“Friday, dial Barnes.” The phone rang a few times before a groggy voice picked up. Tony’s eyes flickered to the time at the top of his screen. 3am. Woops.

“What?” The man growled into the phone grouchily.

“Barnes, it’s Tony.” The genius stated, taking a deep breath.

“Why are you calling me at 3 in the fucking morning?” Bucky snapped sharply. “I’ve had a bad couple of days, and this isn’t helping.”

“Steve’s down.” There was a sharp inhale on the other side of the phone.

“What?” The soldier asked lowly, voice deadly quiet.

“Steve was hit in our mission. He’s been in surgery for four hours and they’ve got another few to go. Nat said you’d want to know.” Tony replied shortly. There were a few muffled curses on the other end.

“I’m on my way.” The line went dead.

“A real conversationalist. Friday alert the front desk. Take Barnes up when we get here.” Tony grumbled, rolling his eyes skyward.

“Of course.” Friday acknowledged.

“I think there’s something going on with those two.” Natasha announced. “Something more than friendship.” She continued when she received confused stares in response.

“What, like a romance? I don’t think Cap is gay.” Tony replied, shaking his head.

“You don’t know that. Have you seen him go on a date? Like, ever?” Clint butted in. “And it would explain all those times that Nat tried to set him up and he found some lame excuse to not go out on the date.” He continued.

“Talking about your teammate while he’s in surgery? Real classy.” Bruce’s voice came from the end of the hallway. The other fell silent, looking down at the floor like chastised children, and the hallway fell silent. Several minutes later, the door opened, and a furious looking Bucky Barnes stormed down the hall, his service dog on alert and growling lowly behind him.

“What. The fuck. _Happened_.” He growled, punctuating his words with a jab to Tony’s chest.

“We split up. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Clint stated softly. “Cap’s been off lately. Angry and self-destructive. We don’t know what happened. He came stumbling out of the building covered in blood and collapsed before he got to the jet.” The archer explained. Bucky’s lip lifted into a snarl.

“Aren’t you supposed to be his teammates? His closest friends? How hard is it to see that he’s fucking _suicidal_?!” He shouted.

“Steve isn’t…he wouldn’t be, right?” Clint asked the others softly. They all looked away from each other.

“We’ve all seen it.” Sam spoke up. “He’s right. We just haven’t done anything about it.” The man shook his head, sinking into a chair beside the door to the OR.

“Fuck.” Clint murmured angrily, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes.

“Fuck is right.” Bucky snapped. “Believe it or not, I’m not a fucking therapist okay? And I’m a little bit tired of being the only person this guy can turn to. I’ve got my own damn problems to think about.” He continued his tirade.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring him?” Natasha asked coolly. Bucky sputtered momentarily, his anger slashed by a stab of guilt that he buried.

“I need some time to myself, yeah.” Bucky replied icily. Natasha hummed, sizing him up, but didn’t answer.

“Then you can leave.” Tony announced.

“Excuse me?” Bucky spun on him, nearly nose to nose.

“You can leave. We’ve got this handled. And we’ll let Rogers know to stop contacting you. That you’ve got your own damn problems to think about.” Tony’s face was carefully blank, the only indication of his own emotions the small crease between his brows.

“You don’t get to make me feel guilty for needing space.” Bucky spat, rage boiling in his stomach.

“No no, Barnes. _You_ don’t get to be upset about that.” Tony hissed, his own rage flickering in his eyes. “You’re right, we could’ve been a little more sensitive to the situation. But you don’t get to act like this is all on us when you’ve been ignoring him for weeks without telling him why. If you don’t leave, I’ll have security escort you off the premises. And if Friday sees you on this property, I’ll even do it again.” Tony’s teeth clenched and Bucky’s jaw worked, but as if Tony’s words had yanked his legs out from under him, the man visibly deflated.

“Fine.” He whispered in a rough voice, spinning and leaving with Bo on his heels.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive, inspiration hasn't struck me for this story in a hot minute!

The aftermath of Bucky’s rage, the rage that had followed him around for weeks and hadn’t been Steve’s fault at all, burned guilt into his heart. He spent his days wavering listlessly among bookshelves, hope burning in his chest despite everything when his phone buzzed, or he heard the little bell above the door ring. But Steve Rogers didn’t reappear in his life. Bucky swung between brokenhearted and angry, and he could tell that Bo was having trouble figuring out the random mood swings.

Natasha had sent him a text when Steve was out of surgery, and again when he’d woken up. But the texts had been professional and closed off, and though Bucky had tried to answer, he couldn’t find it in himself to send a message back to her.

He continued to ignore Carson’s phone calls and messages. He even considered changing his number again. The messages ranged from angry, to hateful, to apologetic, begging Bucky to talk to him, to come back to him. The contact from his ex, a man who was anything but sweet, put him on edge, and had been the reason he’d pulled away from Steve. But Tony had been right, his sudden distance from Steve had been unfair, especially in the delicate state the man had been in.

He was surprised, then, when Tony Stark strolled into his shop on a slow Monday afternoon. Bucky looked up, teeth clacking together audibly, and straightened his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full height.

“Barnes.” Tony spoke first, removing expensive looking sunglasses from his face and tucking them into the front of his shirt.

“Stark.” Bucky snapped back.

“My wife thinks I was too hard on you. I’m…sorry.” Tony spoke it like it was a curse, but he looked Bucky straight in the eyes.

“No harm.” Bucky replied, frowning. His rage dissipated as easily as it had come.

“Steve’s alright.” Tony spoke, as if he’d read Bucky’s mind before he could get the words out. “He healed pretty quickly once he got out of surgery. Dr. Cho said it was a bitch, she had to keep cutting him open to get the shrapnel out. His skin kept closing itself over it.” Bucky shivered softly. “He’s off of missions for a while, Fury put him on mandatory leave.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“I bet he hates that.” Bucky mumbled, thinking of Steve’s apparent need to fight.

“More than anything. He’s been restless since he woke up. It’s actually pretty annoying.” Tony rolled his eyes and Bucky silently agreed with him, he’s sure he’d get annoyed if he had to deal with that. “He asks about you.” Bucky blanched. “He uh…broke his phone before we left for the mission. I haven’t had time to get him another one. He keeps asking if we’ve heard from you. Nat’s told him a bunch of times to let it go, but he doesn’t seem too keen on doing that. Do you…maybe you want to come over for dinner?” Tony’s eyes darted to the left and Bucky sighed miserably.

“I doubt any of them want to see me. I wouldn’t feel very welcomed.” Bucky replied, frowning.

“Nat’s a wildfire, that’s for sure. But I can get the rest of them in line.” Tony shook his head.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Tony.” Bucky stated again, leaning his hip against the counter.

“I’m tired of Rogers being all mopey and shit. He’s happy when he’s with you.” Tony replied. “Just…think about it. Dinner is at 6. If you come, Friday will take you to the right floor.” Tony lifted his hand in a wave before spinning and leaving the shop, effectively leaving Bucky with his thoughts.

***

Bucky shifted nervously in the elevator, wiping a sweaty palm on his jeans and wondering if he should have worn something fancier. When the elevator opened, it was to loud shouting, interspersed with fits of laughter.

“That’s cheating, Nat!” Steve’s voice rang above them, and Bucky’s heart definitely did not stop before launching into overtime. He stepped into the room and cleared his throat. The laughter died into silence.

“Barnes! You came!” Tony’s cheer met his ears. He gave a tentative smile, ignoring the way Natasha’s glare burned into him.

“Uh…” He stammered eloquently.

“Bucky!” Steve looked pleasantly surprised, standing up and hurrying towards the other man. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight!” He stopped in front of the man, positively beaming.

“Uh, yeah. Tony invited me.” He mumbled, fighting the blush that had started to creep up the back of his neck. “I hope that’s okay.” He glanced behind Steve, meeting Natasha’s eyes.

“Of course, it’s okay.” Steve replied brightly. “We’re just finishing up the game, and then we were gonna eat.” He snatched Bucky’s hand, tugging the man forward. Bo’s nails clicked a steady pace behind them.

“I hope you like Indian.” Natasha drawled as Bucky took a hesitant seat beside Steve. Bo let out a growl.

“Nat.” Steve warned in a low voice.

“What?” The woman asked nonchalantly, shrugging. “That’s what we ordered.”

“Yeah, I love Indian.” Bucky replied softly, watching as Steve spun the little spinner on the Game of Life board.

“Nat’s kicking our asses. She’s always winning. Fuckin’ cheater.” Steve grumbled as he moved his little car two spaces, landing on the marriage space.

“You just suck at board games, Rogers.” Nat replied, taking a sip of the gaudy pink cocktail in front of her.

“Well I’m sorry. We didn’t have board games when I was growing up.” Steve snarked, picking up a little blue figure to place next to his blue figure in the green car. Bucky’s heart slammed in his ribs.

“Did you play jacks down at the soda fountain, grandpa? Tell me about how it was back in you day.” Sam snorted. Bucky let out a surprised laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth. Sam laughed victoriously as Steve turned to Bucky, giving him a betrayed look.

“Ouch, Buck.” He pressed his palm to his heart. “I expect this shit from them, but I thought you were in my corner.” He sighed.

“Quit being such a drama queen.” Bucky retorted with a grin. Steve gave him an incredulous laugh and Bucky felt himself light up with it. This might’ve been the happiest he’d ever seen Steve.

“He is dramatic, isn’t he?” Natasha asked. Bucky stiffened a bit, turning to catch her eye. Her face was carefully blank, one eyebrow quirked slightly.

“Nat come on. What’s gotten into you?” Steve asked, reaching over to nudge at her leg.

“Nothing.” Natasha shook her head, looking away from Bucky with lips only slightly pursed, and took another drink. Bucky glanced at Tony, who was smiling apologetically towards him.

The game ended a few minutes later, just as there was a knock at the door.

“Ha! I win!” Natasha crowed, standing and dancing towards the door. Steve poked his middle finger up at her as she flung the door open to take the bags of food.

“Hey, so I wanted to talk to you.” Steve murmured as everyone started to move into the kitchen. Bucky swallowed nervously and nodded. “Look, I’m sorry. I put a lot of pressure on you, and that wasn’t fair of me. I think I just got so excited about having a friend outside of this,” he gestured around, “that I let it get out of hand and I started to rely on you too much. That wasn’t okay. I’m seeing a therapist twice a week now, and Tony’s made me go without a phone for a while, so I had some time to think about everything before I tried to talk to you again.” Steve admitted. Bucky swallowed, fidgeting with his hands.

“I’m sorry too, Steve. There’s been some shit going on in my life, and I needed to deal with it. But I shouldn’t have pulled away like that.” He offered, smiling shyly.

“Of course, you’re forgiven Bucky. You don’t have to apologize for doing what you need to do.” Steve gave him a smile, a sadness floating in his blue eyes. Bucky frowned and leaned forward, drawing Steve into a hug. The large man wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, burying his face in his shoulders.

“I’ve missed you, Steve.” Bucky whispered softly.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you a lot too, Buck.”


End file.
